Attachments
by lxcaos
Summary: It isn't love. It can't be because love wasn't this poisonous, this destructive. Besides, she can't love him. Her heart belongs to someone else. Meanwhile, he's too much of a monster to love anything or anyone. No, this wasn't love; it was more of a sick twisted addiction. Maybe one day they'll break free from each other's chains, but for now, they need this - they need each other.


**Usual disclaimers apply. I own nothing. Rated M for abuse and violence. Trigger warnings apply. Enjoy.**

_"As the smoke clears, I awaken and untangle you from me__."_

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><p>It's sick and twisted in a way but somehow, the pain drives her, makes her feel alive and lets her feel something other than the numbing sensation of loneliness that haunts her and eats at her bones because some days, the alcohol coursing through her – replacing her blood with the addictive substance –isn't enough to numb it all or make her feel empty. Another part of her though, is just so damn tired of being empty; of always being nothing.<p>

She likes the way Len's hands trail over his skin; likes the feeling of his hands coming in contact with her skin, his touch leaving a trail of burning and yearning flesh in its wake. She wants him so badly, aches for him so deeply and yearns for him so much that it hurts and Miku likes the way it hurts so bad. She thinks it's actually quite romantic - in an ironic way - because poets always say that love out to make you feel breathless, that it should burn you so deeply; hurt in ways that are unimaginably agonizing yet, you'd never get enough.

Miku couldn't get enough, of him, his touch, his cruelty. She never wanted it to stop.

She especially likes it when he's rough, demanding and unkind to her in bed. She likes the feeling of Len's nails digging into the skin of her back, drawing blood, the way his hand clenches around her throat and suffocates her. She loves the way the pain takes over all her senses, all her feelings - makes her forget - and for a fraction of a second, she can forget. She drowns in the pain long enough to forget the blue haired boy who'll never quite love her back the way she loves him.

For a fleeting moment, he helps her forget her sins.

There's no guilt after because once the sex - it was too cruel to call it 'making love' because they both knew that love wasn't what transpired between them - was done, she lets the alcohol take over her system, taking her away so that she wouldn't have to stay awake, lying in their bed of mixed sweat, lies and empty promises.

It was easier this way. Sleep provided an escape. If she had no time to stay awake, there would be no time to wonder why she couldn't just bring herself to just love the golden-haired male next to her in bed or why she was forever trapped under the spell of the blue haired senpai and cousin she loved so dearly - even more than she should've - Kaito.

She likes the way the blonde haired god is able to make her forget and feel all at the same time, how he's able to hurt her but never break her. They both know though, that there's really only one person who could ruin her completely.

Sometimes, Miku thinks it's punishment for her forbidden feelings toward Kaito, but she doesn't really quite mind because she lives for this: the blood oozing out of the cuts from her back, the way he left her breathless when he strangled her, the way the bruises from his hands stung the next morning and the unquenchable thirst for the taste of lust that stuck onto her tongue - or was that the lingering taste of alcohol?

Sometimes, during her most drunken days, she confuses her feelings for him and their relationship. Sometimes, she thinks maybe she loves Ren. But before she can ponder it any further, the alcohol takes her away.

After they're done and Miku is fast asleep on one side of their messy, sweat-soaked bed, he can't help but feel the overwhelming rush of anguish that takes over him. The feeling of guilt almost drowns him completely, before he gets up, deciding he needs a smoke.

If he was going to drown in anything, it was going to be the smell of sweat, sex and the warmth of smoke that would fill, choke and burn his lungs. He could've chosen to drown in her, but that would only further his guilt in the situation which was good for neither of them.

He stares at his lover, although it barely seemed that they were lovers. His eyes trace over every feature he can take in, every revealed surface of her skin, every angle and crevice. His eyes drink in the sight of her, all bloodied in the back, bruised, lips cracked from how he'd bitten her so harshly when they kissed and the purplish bruises adorning her neck; like a choker chain tying her down to him.

_"Mine."_

He thinks she's his masterpiece; lying there, unmoving; almost as if she were dead if it wasn't for her soft calm breathing that lifted and sunk her chest in a slow rhythm. She's so beautiful, yet at the same time, he hates her. He hates her for making him feel these things, these damned emotions that never really used to bother him. He'd never felt guilty before. His hands, his body, they'd broken things, damaged people, and even stolen innocence and not once was a single drop of guilt shed. He'd never felt sorry and he sure as hell had never loved anyone or anything.

Until now.

He doesn't know how, but somehow, meeting Miku and having her in his life has flipped that switch of humanity deep inside of him that had been turned off for so many years. Somehow, this hopeless, helpless tealette girl who refused to believe in anyone or anything and was so damaged beyond repair had broken into him and knocked down the walls of steel. It had happened so effortlessly, so quickly, that the boy had to wonder if she even knew the kind of effect she had on him.

Did she realize what she'd done to him?

Len Kagamine wasn't kind, he wasn't caring, he didn't know how to feel remorse, and he surely didn't know how to love. He was a child that had too many issues, too many sorrows, he'd grown up too fast. He was a hateful person; one who only knew how to break people and things around him. He was a terrible man who was only capable of terrible things. Broken people had hands that could only break things further. They didn't know how to fix anything, not even themselves, let alone another person. So how was he supposed to love someone like Miku Hatsune who was, undoubtedly, a world away from him, and possibly just as broken as he was?

He couldn't.

Sometimes, his anger got the best of him and he hurts her, cruelly, deliberately and unkindly. He does it because he knows, deep down, he knows he isn't the one she loves and part of him is punishing her. Was he that difficult to love? Despite the countless times that she's returned to him, gone home to him, his bed and his arms, she was still looking for the warmth of another. After the fog of anger clears in his mind though, he realizes that there was his answer, lying bloodied and broken down, lying naked in the sheets of his sinfulness.

Len was a monster. He knew this. His hands, soaked in blood and tears of his countless victims, were only capable of giving pain. Sure, he loved Miku, more than he'd ever come to love anyone in his entire lifetime, probably more than he'll ever love anyone. But he loved her in the only way he knew how to: with his hands wrapping around her so tightly that they suffocated her, left bruises on her skin, drew blood and left her broken and barely alive.

He'd hoped that two wrongs could make a right, that somehow their flaws would complete the other's and they'd fit like puzzle pieces; that maybe their brokenness would fix each other, but in the end, it can't be.

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><p><strong>AN: **Admittedly, it's rather dark and OOC, but I love this ship (even though it's not that common) and I just wanted to write something, anything, for this pairing. Reviews are always highly appreciated.


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